


Never thought I'd still be here today

by scalpelsandhappiness



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scalpelsandhappiness/pseuds/scalpelsandhappiness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A phone conversation between former band-mates.  Dr. Starchild is in the office.  Kurt isn't really sure why he thought coming back to Lima seemed like a good idea at the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never thought I'd still be here today

Authors note: So, I worked on this frantically before the season premiere, then life went kabloo-ey on me and I had no free time to finish it, and it all got jossed within the first twenty minutes. I was just going to let this fic languish on my hard drive and never post it. But Elliott was incredibly insistent that he hadn’t had enough time in my fics, and demanded that I finish it. This is not betaed, is incredibly rough, and is mostly two lovely young men talking on the phone late into the night. Think of it as an AU at the beginning of what has actually happened in this incredible final season. The title is taken from the lyrics of “Lost Horizons” by the Gin Blossoms. Mentions of Finn if that's a trigger for you, as well as Dave's behavior toward Kurt in high school.

 

“I’m glad to hear that things are going so well with you and James. You were getting kind of pathetic there for a while, trying to get him to notice you.”

“Pathetic?” Elliott grumbled into the phone. “Well… maybe. Dani agrees with you on that. But Kurt, _oh my god_ , it’s worth it. He’s so amazing!”

“And willing to put up with your plan of driving all over the northern United States to play in crappy bars for the next four months. He sounds like a keeper.” Kurt stretched out on his bed, phone pressed to his ear.

“You bet he is. But enough about _my_ adventures. What are you getting up to in Ohio? And _why,_ exactly, did you decide it was a good idea to leave New York for a semester or two?”

“Well, I love NYADA, but having a chance to get away from all the insanity there for a while seemed like a good idea. Elliott, you have no idea how toxic the gossip got after last summer. And I’m getting college credit for the projects I’m doing while I’m at home.”

“And what projects are those exactly?”

“There’s a theater company in Columbus that I’ve been doing various jobs for – lighting design, costume fittings – they’re doing _The Mystery of Irma Vep_ in October, and I’m on the dressing crew.”

“Dressing crew? How big is the cast?”

“Two people.”

“They need a crew for that?”

“Two actors who play a multitude of characters each, and who do quick-changes in seconds off-stage. Elliott, if you ever have the chance, you _have_ to see it. It’s hysterical and I love it!”

“Anything closer to home?”

“Ugh, yes. The Lima Theater is still running, and how they even stay afloat with the ghastly stuff they do—“

“Nothing that would be Kurt Hummel-approved?”

“You have no idea. They’re doing a decayed relic of a play from the 1920’s called _The Warrior’s Husband_. You wouldn’t believe how offensive it is.”

“Isn’t that an old movie from the 30’s? I think I might have caught part of it late one night…”

“Amazons and Greeks fighting it out over non-traditional gender roles in the most self-indulgent look-at-how-progressive-and-amusing-we-are bunch of schlock that ever got vomited onto the stage. I don’t _care_ that Katharine Hepburn got her career off the ground by being noticed in it on Broadway, it’s awful. Stop snickering, Elliott, I can hear you.”

“I’m Googling it while we’re talking. So the Amazonian men are sweet, delicate flowers of masculinity?”

“Guess which part they wanted me to play. I dare you.”

“The young, lovely Amazonian man who gets married off to the queen?”

“Sapiens. Yes. And no, I told them where they could stick that role, and made them give me the part of the Greek Herald. He’s not as annoying, and I get to steal every scene I’m in.”

“You can make them give you the parts you want now? Why didn’t you use that power for evil in New York?”

“They’re not as desperate in New York. And I’m also doing the sound design and helping with wardrobe. It gave me some bargaining power.”

“Sounds like plenty to keep you busy.”

“No, there’s more. Rachel’s home from L.A., and she’s trying to get the Glee club running again at our old high school.”

“Hiding out from her critics in Lima, OH?”

“I guess. Although it’s not like anyone in this town is less critical than anywhere else. I think with less for people to do, they focus any abilities they might have actually used to make the world a better place into sticking their noses in everyone else’s business.”

“I have to say, Kurt, I did see her show. The pilot was passable, but the next two episodes…”

“Yes. I know. I can’t believe she burned her bridges on Broadway for that steaming pile of crap. It died a merciful death four episodes in, and I’m surprised it got that far.”

“How’s she taking the disappointment?”

“Honestly? I’m not really sure. It just seems like over the past year, she’s bounced from one project to the next without any real plan, and I’m worried about her. Her dad is, too.”

“I thought she had two dads? She mentions it whenever she meets someone new, after all.”

“You know Rachel; she needs to promote her ally credibility. No, she still has two dads, but they split up a few months ago. Hiram moved to Cleveland to live with a drag queen he met at a club.”

“Ouch. How long were they together?”

“Twenty-eight years.”

“God. How is the other guy doing?”

“LeRoy? Better than I’d expect. He’s angry, of course, but I think he’s focusing a lot of his concern onto Rachel to keep his mind off of it. He did say that he doesn’t want Hiram back.”

“The two of you talked about it?”

Kurt sighed into the phone. “Yes, a bit. It’s weird. Back in high school, both of them were just two men I knew who created my best frenemy. But LeRoy and I have been talking some now that I’m back in town. You know how amazing my dad is, but there’s some stuff LeRoy and I can just talk about where we know that the other one _gets_ it.”

. . . . . .

“We finished off those muffins that you brought by the other night, Kurt. Rachel loved them. I had to set a few aside for myself and hide them where she wouldn’t find them. How did you get vegan muffins to turn out so well? Mine always come out a bit dry.”

“Um,” Kurt squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “I actually used eggs in them. _Promise_ you won’t tell Rachel! She just seems a bit too thin, lately, and her fingernails looked dry and cracked, and I thought she needed a bit more protein.”

LeRoy’s laughter over the phone eased the tension in Kurt’s shoulders. “Kurt, I’ve been feeding her non-vegan food for years. As long as she doesn’t see it being made, she’ll believe you when you say it’s vegan.”

“This explains so much about the times I ate at your house at the past. The soy-cheese pizzas at the sleepovers she had with me and Mercedes?”

“Well, goat’s-milk cheese. She was always less suspicious of that. And yes, I know it’s not the most respectful way of dealing with her dietary choices, but Kurt, when she first went vegan, I suffered through so many inedible meals, you have no idea!”

“Is she doing a bit better?” Kurt bit his lip. Rachel was all over the place lately, and he hated to see her so unhappy, even after some unkind comments she’d made to him recently.

“I don’t _know_ ,” LeRoy sighed. “She keeps flinging herself into all these different projects, and it seems like—“

“None of them are actually making her happy?” Kurt offered softly.

“Exactly. And Kurt, I’m sorry to bring up your brother, I know it’s almost a year now since he died, but—“

“It’s ok, LeRoy. I think I agree with you. Does it seem like she keeps thinking that the next new project will take away any pain so that she doesn’t ever actually have to take the time to fully grieve for what she lost when Finn died?”

“ _Yes_ ,” LeRoy gasped into the phone. “That’s it. And Kurt, no matter how hard I try, she doesn’t listen to me when I try and tell her what I think is actually going on inside that head of hers.”

“And you’ve lived with her for a lot longer than I did. I guess we just keep trying?”

“You’re a good friend to her, Kurt. And to me, lately. I appreciate how you’ve let an old man vent from time to time.”

“You’re not that old yet, LeRoy. I bet that if you came with me to the club in Columbus that I’m going to with some theater friends tonight, you’d be fighting men off with sticks.”

“Not sticks,” LeRoy sniffed facetiously. “All that bark on my hands would make horrible callouses. So you’re getting out a bit more? That’s good, Kurt. I’m glad.”

“Yeah, well. Not that I’m expecting to find my Prince Charming tonight. But it will be fun to dance.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“Oh, I’m going out soon. Let me take a picture of my outfit and I’ll text it to you, ok?”

“All right. I have to live vicariously, after all. Have you sent it yet?”

“Just did. Let me know when it goes through.”

“ _Oh_. “

“Oh my god. Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not bad.”

“Really?”

“Kurt, if you weren’t thirty years younger than me, we didn’t have a slightly incestuous connection through you basically being the twin brother my daughter never had, and I wasn’t heartbroken over the love of my life leaving me to live with a drag queen called Rye Seroni… I would climb you like a tree right now.”

“Oh. Ok, then!” A deep breath huffed over the phone. “Yeah, that’s a bit weird. But thanks for the compliment!”

“You’re welcome. You look wonderful. Now go out and have fun for the both of us, ok?”

“Will do, LeRoy. Talk to you soon.”

. . . . .

“Sooooo…”

“Yes?”

“How much fun did you have at that club?”

“Ugh, none of what you’re implying, you slut.”

“Hey! I’m a happily committed man at the moment, I’ll have you know.”

“Sure you are. No, I had fun with the people I went with, and I danced a lot, but it’s just…”

“Kurt. Have you gone out on any dates at all since I left New York?”

“Well, if you count the speed dating event that I went to, I actually had over two dozen that night…”

“No, that _doesn’t_ count. An actual date, Kurt. Have you been on one?”

Kurt sighs. “No.”

“Oh, honey. Why not? You know you’re attractive.”’

“It’s… it’s just so different now, Elliot.”

“How so?”

“Well, I don’t want to just be dating for the sake of dating. All anyone seems interested in is hooking up. And I actually want a connection. It’s not like I think I’m going to find the love of my life – we both know how well _that_ worked out for me – but is it too much to want to actually be friends with a guy first?”

“Hey, don’t let what happened with Blaine completely turn you off on the possibility of love, Kurt.”

“I really don’t know if I want to hear his name right now.”

“No, but Kurt, you’re an amazing guy. Someone eventually is bound to recognize that there’s more to you than how well you fill out a pair of skinnies.”

“Not here. And I didn’t see any indication of it in New York, either.”

“Have you looked into internet dating sites?”

“ _Oh, god._ I’m scarred for _life_ due to those sites, Elliott!”

“Hey, I’ve met some very nice people over the internet! I seem to recall a posting for band auditions that led me to meeting some amazing friends.”

“Ok, that worked out. But for dating? Elliott, it’s all so sleazy, and it leaves me feeling horrible. All I get are messages that turn out to be guys sending me dick shots, or questions about what I’ll do in bed before I ever even meet them. The three guys I’ve messaged back and forth with because they seemed nice? The tone turned dirty within the fifth update, and it just leaves me feeling so…”

“Kurt, are you using the free sites? Those never turn out well. Subscription sites are your friend, I promise you.”

“It’s just… I told you before about how horrible high school was, right?”

“A bit. High school is its own special brand of hell, honey; it’s just different for all of us in how ghastly it can be.”

“Did I ever tell you about my first kiss?”

“It was with Blaine, right?”

“No. It wasn’t.”

“Kurt. You told me he was your first _everything._ ”

“Because I like to live in denial at times.”

“Hey. You can tell me, or if you need to, I can change the subject. I don’t like the way your voice sounds right now.”

“What does it sound like?”

“Like a variation of the crap I lived through when I was sixteen.”

“No, I think I need to – there was this football player.”

“Not the kind that was lovely to perv on when he played at home games, I’m guessing?”

“I’ve told you some of what high school was like, but this guy… he was the worst. He was always the one who hit the hardest, shoved me around the most, made my life hell even when I was trying to hide in the closet. One day he smacked my phone onto the floor and shoved me down after it, and I just got so _angry._ And the one other nice gay boy I’d recently met had suggested I needed to stand up for myself.”

“Oh, god.”

“So I chased him into the locker room and confronted him on what an absolute asshole he was, and he grabbed me, and kissed me.”

“ _Kurt_ , honey…”

“I just felt so wrong, like everything I’d ever hoped for was going to be a mockery for my whole life, like that disgusting assault was the most I could hope for in terms of anyone ever wanting me.”

“No, sweetheart. Oh god, never believe that.”

“And trying to date right now feels like that. That all anyone will want me for is this body, that all I’m good for is a casual fuck, or being told that a twink like me is made to take a cock up the ass, and everything that was beautiful and safe about sex with Blaine being reduced to some stranger wanting to objectify me to this mindless body that should just _take_ what anyone wants to do to it…”

“Kurt. Take some deep breaths. Come on, breathe with me, ok? One, two, three, breathe…”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted our phone call to go tonight--”

“I’m here, Kurt. Stop crying when you can, ok?”

. . . . .

“Doing better now?”

“Yes, a bit. I’m sorry—“

“Don’t you dare apologize.”

“It’s just that I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted your Friday night to go.”

“Catching up with one of my best friends? No, I’m pretty sure this is exactly what I wanted.”

“But James…”

“Knows that friendship is important. You’re important, Kurt. It seems like you need someone to remind you of that.”

“Oh god, you sound like my dad and his ‘you matter’ speeches.”

“What’s that?”

“Some deeply traumatizing and incredibly sweet advice back when I was an insane seventeen-year-old with no clue about sex. Basically, it was a combination of mind-numbing horror and my dad being awesome. So you know, the usual when it comes to him.”

“How’s he doing? I was surprised when you told me he wasn’t going to run for re-election.”

“Ok, I think. It’s just, with Finn last year, and Carole’s health scare this spring—“

“What happened? You never mentioned anything about your step-mom!”

“She had some of what they call transient ischemic attacks. Basically a precursor to a stroke. So she cut back her hours at work, _a lot_ , and Dad has been worrying about her so much…”

“How is she doing, with the one year anniversary coming up?”

“Not great. I mean, none of us are, but I think more than anything Dad decided she needed to be one of his biggest priorities.”

“That speech of his that I found on YouTube where he endorsed his top aide as the new candidate was _amazing_. I wish he could have represented my district back home.”

“He was great. I feel bad for him cutting that potential career short, but Dad has never been shy about doing what he wants.”

“Sounds like someone else I know. And hey, don’t retired politicians still get pensions?”

“Oh my god, you would not believe how much the pension and benefits are! It’s kind of ridiculous. But so much of his salary the past two years went toward hiring other people to run the shop, and it’s good to know he and Carole will be set for when they eventually retire.”

“So that’s one less thing for you to be all OCD about? Good.”

“Shut _up_ , I do not have OCD! I’m just very particular about certain things…”

“Right, Mr. Light Blue Socks. So your dad is just finishing up his term?”

“Yeah. He’s still in D.C. about four or five days each week, but he finds the time to come home to dote over Carole and ride herd on me.”

“You know you love him.”

“Of course I love him, it’s just that he’s not had me to fuss over nonstop for almost two years now, and he’s going _seriously_ overboard!”

. . . . .

From: Dad

I’ll be home tomorrow night. You and Carole ok?

From: Kurt

Yes, we’re fine. I’m going out to a club in Columbus with some friends tonight. I checked on Carole earlier and made sure she ate a healthy dinner and wasn’t doing too much around the house.

From: Dad

You’re borrowing my truck, right?

From: Kurt

Yeah. I’ll be careful with it, and I promise I’m not going to have anything to drink tonight, so don’t worry.

From: Dad

Check the glove box.

Kurt set his phone down on the counter, walked into the garage, and slid into the passenger side of the truck. Opening the glove box, he found a box of condoms with a bright yellow post-it note on the side, which read:

_You might have remembered me telling you a few years ago that you matter. In case you forget that when you’re out, use these. Stay safe. Love, Dad._

Cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and rage, Kurt stalked back to his phone.

From: Kurt

Text me when you get in tomorrow night. I am NOT talking to you right now, BTW.

From: Dad

I can live with that. Love you, buddy.

. . . . .

“Oh my _god,_ he really did that?” Elliot gasped for breath over the phone.

“Glad someone got some amusement out of his antics,” Kurt responded dryly.

“You totally have to put that into the next song you write!”

“What, my dad has an unhealthy concern about my sex life?”

“It could be awesome. Besides, I loved “Prom Queen.” You’ve got a talent for lyrics, Kurt, and you’ve actually been practicing on your guitar.”

“It killed time in the evenings that used to be devoted to my ex-fiancée.”

“Whatever, you’re tons better than you were when you first started. I love your YouTube channel. James enjoyed it, too, when I showed it to him last time.”

“Elliot, you’re not showing it to a bunch of people, are you? Because I made it private for a reason!”

“No, I promise, just him. But seriously, Kurt, you could get some amazing feedback if you opened it up for public viewing—“

“ _No._ It’s mainly for my NYADA instructors for some long-distance assignments, and for some things I want to share with a select group of people. I don’t want to become troll-bait for thousands of people to say I sing like a girl.”

“Fine, we’ll return to this discussion later.”

“No, we won’t, because I’m not going to change my mind about this!”

“But what other songs have you written lately?”

“A few. They’re all variants on ‘my heart is broken because I couldn’t make things work with the love of my life because _I’m_ a bitchy loser with personal walls ten miles high and _he_ didn’t want me to grow emotionally past junior year of high school.’ So, they’re all sounding quite alike.”

“Ugh. Sorry I asked. But Kurt, honestly, that Gin Blossoms cover? That’s the best of what you could get from 90’s music?”

“Hey, I’m back in Lima, Ohio. “Lost Horizons” is very _apropos_ , I’ll have you know.”

“You seriously couldn’t have found anything better?”

“I’m getting _this_ from a man who enthusiastically performed a Wilson Phillips song in front of a live audience?”

“Hey, that was karaoke night! And I was drunk! And it was _still_ better than the Gin Blossoms!”

“Keep telling yourself that, honey. Keep telling yourself that. Or _hold on for one more day_ , you know, if that works—“

“Shut _up._ Just for that, you have to give me a taste of what you’ve been writing.”

“Fine. My guitar is across the room and I’m too comfortable to actually get up, but here’s some a capella…

_And I know you don’t care to believe me_

_Because you want to think I’ve changed too much_

_But wipe those tears from your hazel eyes_

_What we had was never only luck_

_You told everyone it was all my fault_

_But what I tell you now is true_

_When you thought we were only fighting_

_I was fighting for me and you…_

I need to tighten up the lyrics, I know.”

“I like the melody, though.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve got time to make it better. Lots and lots of time.”

“I also liked that Maroon 5 cover you posted a few days ago. I didn’t think an acoustic version of “Never Gonna Leave This Bed” would work so well, but it really—“

“I took that down last night. You didn’t show it to anyone else, did you?”

“No, but Kurt, that was amazing, what you did with it. Why on earth would you—“

“I sang that for Blaine.”

“Have you seen him yet?”

“Yes, last night.”

“And?”

“God, Elliott, he…”

“You’re not going to have another panic attack, are you, Kurt? _Breathe._ ”

“He’s seeing someone else. I went up and told him to his face that I was going to win him back, and he told me he’s with someone else.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry.”

“It gets worse, though.”

“How so?”

“The guy he’s with… remember me telling you just now about my first kiss?”

“The closeted football player?”

“Yeah. Eventually he became a semi-decent human being and I felt so horrible for him when he was outed. And I forgave him for what he’d done to me before this. But there’s part of me that would have happily never seen him again, because I may forgive, but I never forget someone who threatened to kill me just so that he could stay in the closet after assaulting me…”

“You don’t mean that—“

“That’s who Blaine is dating now.”

“Fuck. _Fuck_.”

“Yeah.”

“Kurt. Do you need me to cancel a few shows and come for a visit? Or if you can get time off from rehearsals and come see me – we’re going to be in Minneapolis the weekend after next?”

“No, I don’t want you to rearrange your plans for this—“

“Tell you what. Email me your schedule and I’ll send you mine, and we’ll come up with something that makes your plans and my plans _our_ plans. It doesn’t have to be right away, but I miss you, and I know for a fact that James wants to get to know you better.”

“I don’t deserve a friend like you, you know that?”

“Fuck that thinking. You deserve better than what you’ve been dealing with, I don’t care how many mistakes you beat yourself up about. You aren’t just your mistakes, Kurt, you’re amazing and you need to remember that.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“Thank god you’re actually seeing one, even if it is over Skype now that you’ve returned to BFE, Ohio.”

“I miss you, Elliott. I miss New York. I just don’t know how to make myself do much of anything just now.”

“And yet you’re still keeping on, rocking that Lima stage. And Kurt?”

“Hmm?”

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I had sex?”

“This isn’t going to turn into some perverted phone call, is it?”

“No, seriously. I don’t think I ever did. So I wasn’t really closeted, but I spent a lot of time biting my tongue when guys my age were talking about girls non-stop…”

“God, how straight guys go on about boobs.”

“Most of them must have been weaned too early, agreed. And then there was this guy at school, we talked a few times at stupid parties where everyone ended up getting wasted, and I got this _vibe_ , you know, that I wasn’t the only one having these feelings that no one else was, that I what I was wasn’t entirely wrong. And one night, I woke up to him tossing pebbles at my window, and I snuck out and we went for a drive in the moonlight.”

“Sounds romantic, in a potentially John Hughes-ian way.”

“Well, anyway. We parked on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere, and ended up fucking in the back of his truck. And afterwards, I felt so _right_ , you know? Like, of course, this was how I was meant to feel, this is what attraction meant to me, and I swear I felt high the rest of the weekend.”

“What about after?”

“At school on Monday, he wouldn’t look at me. When I found time to speak to him in private, he said it was a mistake, and that if I told anyone, he’d deny it.”

“Oh, God, Elliott…”

“And they would have believed him, not me, so I just didn’t say anything, even after he started dating a girl and doing random hookups with other guys on the side. And yes, it sucked, but think about other guys like us, Kurt? So many of them have stories even _worse_ than that.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Kurt, I know you’re hurting right now, like heart-ripped-out-of-your-chest _hurting_. But even if you and Blaine never get back together? You had that perfect first love. You gave your virginity to someone who still loved you the next morning, who was proud to be yours, who made you feel safe.”

“It all – just feels so tainted now by what this past year has been.”

“I know, and that’s going to take a lot of work to get past. But Kurt, you _had_ that love and that joy. Even if you never get it back with Blaine, the two of you were really lucky for a long time, you know? Even though it ended badly.”

“I just feel so stupid – I thought I was suffocating then, that he wouldn’t give me any space , but now I feel like I’m dying. I should have just given up and been what he wanted me to be, even though it felt like he wanted me to be so much _less_ than I was…”

“What do you mean?”

“He was always wanting us to do _everything_ together, like he couldn’t trust me out of his sight, like any parts of my life that I built for myself were a threat to him, and I just felt so _trapped_ all the time. I miss him so much, Elliott, and things are horrible right now, but is that what I’m stuck with? Giving up the parts of me that I need to keep separate from other people so that I won’t be alone for the rest of my life?”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a happy life, Kurt.”

“But what if that’s all there is for me?”

“Stop and listen to me for a moment, ok? I need you to really think about this. What was Blaine most afraid of?”

“How the hell should I know? All the last few months before I broke up with him were one big recrimination that I had any life that didn’t revolve around him!”

“ _Kurt_. Be fair now. He was afraid that you would leave him again.”

“Oh, god. “

“And you had your own fears, right?”

“He was so fucking clingy all the time, I thought I was going to go out of my mind. I had to keep parts of me away from him in order to breathe.”

“I know that you’re sometimes reserved with people when you first meet them. It’s one of the reasons I liked becoming your friend so much. Because at first glance, you’re amazing, but when you drop your walls? It’s so much more, so much _better_. It’s the real you, Kurt.”

“I guess?”

“So why were you keeping your walls up around the man you said you wanted to marry?”

“Are you planning on becoming a therapist, Elliott? I think your tattoo collection would really impress them in psychiatry school.”

“I’m saying this with love, Kurt. Answer the fucking question. What is it about Blaine that scared you so much that you felt like you had to keep him at a distance?”

“I… I was afraid he would hurt me too badly again. _Cheat_ on me again. The proof would be out there for everyone to see, that I could never be enough for him.”

“Did you ever tell him that?”

“No?”

“Why not?”

“I was too afraid. Even after all the time had passed, it still hurt so much to realize that he’d been with someone else. That was a part of our lives I only ever wanted to share with him, and he just… God, Elliott. It’s such a mess. I don’t even know where to begin to fix it. Especially now – I just thought that I could show up, tell him I wanted to try again, and he’d fall back into my arms. Because _I am fucking stupid_ , apparently.”

“Hey, my patient can’t begin to get better before he quits beating himself up, you know.”

“Bite me.”

“That isn’t covered under the guidelines of my practice.”

“Quit trying to make me laugh, you asshole!”

“Just wait until I send you the bill for your copay.”

“You’re such a jerk. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Kurt.”

“Elliott?”

“Hmm?”

“I know that even when he’s pissed off at me, Blaine wouldn’t be so malicious as to choose a new boyfriend solely based on the fact that the guy was featured in my nightmares for over a year in high school.”

“No, that doesn’t sound like him.”

“But subconsciously, there’s a part of me that can’t help but wonder if it was a factor. Like I’d hurt him so badly, that this was his way of getting back?”

. . . . .

“Ok. Enough blathering about my shambles of a love life. It’s getting incredibly late, and I have to go back to hell, otherwise known as William McKinley High School, tomorrow morning for some meeting that Rachel has set up.”

“And my bed is calling to me. I’m glad we had time to talk, though. And we will find time to see each other in person before the New Year. It’s non-negotiable.”

“I can’t wait. Especially if we can find a time and place for Dani to join us.”

“Sounds like something worth planning for. Anything else you need to get off your chest tonight?”

“Actually, yes, there is one thing. You have to promise not to judge.”

“I would normally _never_ promise that, Kurt, but for you? Hit me with it.”

“It’s just – this is the first time I’ve actually lived at home again full-time since Finn died. And there’s part of me that keeps thinking I’m going to see him tearing through the refrigerator, or putting his dirty feet up on the coffee table, and it’s so strange to be back in the home we all built together and him not actually be here.”

“Kurt, that’s normal. Why would I judge you for that?”

“Do you believe in ghosts, Elliott?”

“What? I have no idea. I mean, they might be real, or they might just be a delusion our minds create…”

“Because you know I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in life after death. But Elliott, I _swear_ I’ve heard his footsteps in the upstairs hall several times.”

“Wow. Seriously?”

“I mean, I don’t know if it’s a dream when I’m on the edge between sleep and waking, or if it’s my mind missing him so I create this memory of what his enormous feet sounded like tromping down the hall, but either way, it seems so _real_.”

“Does it frighten you?”

“No, not really.”

“Does it make you sad?”

“No more so than normal when I think of him, no.”

“Then does it really matter if it’s real or not? It’s a way that you’re remembering him. That may be as much life after death as most of us get, don’t you think?”

“How is it that you just get me when I spent so much of my teenage years feeling absolutely misunderstood, even by my friends?”

“I’m just that amazing. Dr. Starchild, psychiatrist to the up-and-coming future actors of the Great White Way, at your service.”

“You _dork_. I miss you so much. Tell James I said he has to treat you well, or I’ll sneak up on him some night when he’s asleep and butcher his ridiculously perfect hair.”

“If you saw him first thing in the morning, you’d reassess that impression. Epic bedhead, Kurt, seriously.”

“Well, it’s time for the two of you, as well as me, to create some bedhead of our own. I’m about to die from lack of sleep.”

“Sweet dreams to you then, honey. I’ll talk to you later in the week.”

“You damned well better. I feel almost like I’m back in New York when I can talk to you.”

“Next year we’ll be back there. I’m making a list of places I’m going to drag you to whether you want to go or not.”

“Okay… Elliott?”

“Yes?”

“It’s nice having a sort-of brother again.”

“Um…”

“Is that a weird thing to say?”

“No. No, it isn’t. I always wanted a sort-of brother myself. It was hell just having four sisters, all these years.”

“Let me guess, they always stole your good hair dryer?”

“Yeah. And now I really have to get some sleep.”

“Tell James I said hi, and sorry for keeping you up so late.”

“Love you, Kurt. Talk to you soon.”


End file.
